


The Dragon of Hethen Kingdom

by SleepingReader



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dragons, Gen, Heroes, Prompt Fill, Quests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 11:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12816423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepingReader/pseuds/SleepingReader
Summary: In a world where kingdoms sprout out of the ground as quick as mushrooms, Bowl the Barbarian has accepted a peculiar quest: Save The Dragon.





	The Dragon of Hethen Kingdom

In a land where kingdoms sprout out of the ground like mushrooms, and princes and princesses are stolen, locked away and found everywhere, it’s not very hard for a hero to find a quest.

Bowl the Barbarian always heard that he was aptly named. Not only did his face look like someone has spilled soup on it, it also looked like his mother had slammed the entire bowl of it in his face when he was young.   
This was only half true. A tragic accident with a witch and some tomato soup had Bowl the Barbarian looking like this. His mother had in fact been a very caring woman.   
Being only slightly illiterate, Bowl the Barbarian looked at the noticeboard bearing the quests for the month. 

‘Princess Locked In Hidden Castle, Will Offer Hand In Marriage’ Bowl shook his head at this. He had heard about this princess. She tended to lock herself up, and had been through 5 men already. And why had the messenger himself not freed the princess, anyway.

‘Dwarven Prince Locked Away In Dungeon, Offers Riches To Be Let Out.’ Bowl considered this. Then he shook his head again. Dwarves were tricky. 

‘The King of the Land of Hethen Offers a Noble Quest: A Reward, For Whoever Saves The Dragon.’  
Bowl squinted at the pamphlet. It did say ‘Slays’, right?   
No, it definitely didn’t. Whatever this King was, he apparently wanted to save the dragon. Well, Bowl had no problem with that. Saving princesses, princes, dragons, ducks… It didn’t matter.   
Hethen was only two kingdoms over, right next to the side of the Whisktail Mountains. Bowl decided to take the quest. He packed his bag, said goodbye to his mum and mounted his horse Alfie.   
The kingdoms of Zugriton and Piquinao that lay between Bowl and the kingdom of Hethen were so small that he and his horse made the trip in two days. Farmland turned to meadows turned to forests, and before long, the Whisktail Mountains were in sight, the small kingdom of Hethen tucked in between. 

The kingdom of Hethen was always disturbed by minor earthquakes, but Bowl and his horse had been through greater dangers.   
He arrived at the gate of Hethen’s capital city, conveniently named The Capital. The guards saw the pamphlet he carried, and let him in. 

He was shown into the throne room, and was requested to kneel before the King of Hethen. Bowl bent his head in reverence, as his mum had told him. Soft footsteps pattered on the floor. Swishing of a long robe.   
‘’Ave you come for the dragon?’ The King of Hethen asked. He sounded young.  
‘Yes, m’lord’ Bowl answered.   
‘Well, stand up, let’s have a look at you’ the King ordered.  
Bowl stood up and looked down to an eight-year-old, who appeared to be standing on a stool. The eight-year old was barefoot, but was wearing the long scarlet King’s robe that was customary this season. He was also wearing pyjamas. Bowl was not surprised by this. Kingship was always passed down, and with small kingdoms came big assassins. Child-kings were not unheard of, though uncommon.   
‘What’s your name?’ The King asked.  
‘Bowl, m’lord’  
‘Really? Why?’  
‘Couldn’t say, m’lord’  
‘How tall are you?’ The King asked.  
‘Seven feet seven, if it please ye, lord’   
‘Can you stand on a horse?’ The King squinted up at Bowl.  
‘I believe so, my lord?’

The child-king smiled. There were gaps between his teeth, where he was growing into his adult set. ’Yeah, you’ll do. I need a tall person to help the dragon and everyone here is taller than I am and they’re still too small!’   
‘Pleased to help ye, m’lord.’ Bowl muttered.   
‘Good. Then go to the Whisktail Mountains, to Tip’s Peak. Someone will tell you what to do there. Be careful, she’s important to us.’ The child-king said. Bowl bowed again, and left the throne room. He vaguely wondered why the dragon was so important. Most people would just want to slay her. Especially if it was a her. Female dragons with eggs were as risky as sticking your privates in a bonfire. 

Bowl let his horse Alfie in the King’s stables, and settled for a large donkey by the name of Herbert. Herbert was a sturdy one. The kind that could almost scale a vertical wall. Bowl the Barbarian rode Herbert the Donkey to the Whisktail Mountain. There was a small cave right next to the narrow path. Bowl peered inside, searching for danger or treasure, but only saw dusty rock. 

There were many bumps and ridges around the path. As he came closer to Tip’s Peak, Bowl noticed that the path curved slowly upward. At the end, a large, thirteen foot spike of snow-covered rock stuck towards the sky. Tip’s Peak. 

A hermit with a long beard stood near the edge of the sheer cliff.   
‘G’morning large feller!’ The hermit called cheerfully, waving Bowl over.  
‘Goodmornin’ to ye too’ Bowl muttered politely. ‘The King of Hethen sent me for a dragon?’  
‘Ah, ye, poor Sasha ain’t been the same since the meteor strike. Good think ye’re tall! All ye need to do is step on them donkey there and reach up to the tip of Tip’s Peak! You’ll find the problem right away!’  
Bowl shrugged. If his only job was to get a frightened tiny dragon off of Tip’s Peak, he might even make it home before next week.   
He called Herbert the Donkey over and clambered onto his back. With shaking legs, he stood facing the mossy wall of Tip’s Peak. There was no tiny dragon. There was, however, a very sharp piece of rock seemingly embedded in the moss. Bowl picked at it experimentally. The rock came loose. The Hermit whooped. The mountain shuddered. Bowl had just enough time to jump off of his donkey before he saw the hermit topple in slow-motion off the edge of the cliff. 

It happened both slow and fast, like honey dripping off the edge of a cracker. Tip’s Peak bowed down, and scooped up the hermit out of mid-air. It set him down on the path again, before once again extending to the sky. The hermit walked over to the Peak, and patted it happily.   
‘Thank ye, Sasha, old gal’  
Bowl left his donkey and began to run. A slight avalanche fell near him, and near the tip of Backbones Ridge, he caught a glimpse of bright green scales. If he ran slower, he would have noticed the hole he saw in the beginning snort out some leaves. He did see the massive blue eye opening and closing on the other side of the mountain range that was so conveniently arranged around a single capital city.   
As he ran, Bowl wondered why he kept calling Whisktail Mountains a ‘Mountain Range’ and not ‘Great Bloody Dragon Napping On The Country’

 

Bowl threw aside the guards, and stormed into the throne room.   
The King clapped in his hands.   
‘Yaaay! I knew you’d be tall enough!’  
‘I thought… the dragon… would be SMALL.’ He said, panting.   
‘I never said that!’ The child-king protested.   
‘Why a… dragon? Why not a… mountain range?’ Bowl gasped, quickly adding ‘m’lord’ before it would get him into trouble.

‘Sasha is my ancestors dragon, and we are her greatest treasure.’ The King of Hethen said with a big gap-toothed grin.  
‘I thought dragons always sat on their greatest treasure.’ Bowl noticed.  
The King frowned. ’Please don’t tell her that.’


End file.
